


Empty Spaces

by TheIneffableLily



Series: Free Falling [3]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Biting, Break Up, Bruises, Dirty Talk, Hair-pulling, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Loud Sex, Love Bites, M/M, Post-Break Up, Switching, Top!Nicky, bottom!Joe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIneffableLily/pseuds/TheIneffableLily
Summary: "I say screw Mark. Get him out of here and bring all of that mean, angry energy into the bedroom. Take it all out on me.”“Right. So, screw Mark. But fuck you.”“Now you’re getting it.”
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Nicky | Nicolo di Genova/Other(s)
Series: Free Falling [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982570
Comments: 38
Kudos: 329





	Empty Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> No real warning in this one, just wanted to thank the kind comments on the two previous stories. I don't always reply, but they're much appreciated and encouraging. I'm happy to see people enjoy this little story, so I've added one more installment of the boys being kinky and fluffy.
> 
> Oh, and bottom!Joe makes an appearance.

There were parts of his body that Nicky never thought able of sending such a thrill down his spine. For example, it’d never occurred to him that the tender skin on the inside of his arm would react so strongly to the tickle of Joe’s beard or the fierce bite of his teeth. Yet, there he was, sprawled on what had nearly become his marital bed, with Joe experimenting with his body and seeing just how much he could make him squirm.

Nicky felt eager to reach between his legs and stroke his erection, but his hands stayed dutifully on the mattress, fists holding on to the sheet as Joe bit harder. He rolled his hips to get the head of his cock to rub against his stomach, that little bit of friction only managing to deepen the need. Nicky found that he quite liked the wait, especially when it was peppered with painful kisses that would definitely leave marks and bruises on his skin.

“I really should get going,” Joe said, but he clearly didn’t mean it. He’d started saying he had to go home and work on his art sometime around five in the morning - but he’d done so while tracing lines on the inside of Nicky’s thighs with his fingertips, begging to stay without saying a word. They were now nearing noon and neither had taken the first step of getting out of bed. They hadn’t eaten or showered and Nicky’s skin felt sticky with sweat and saliva. If he rubbed his tongue on the roof of his mouth, he could still feel the taste Joe’s cock had left in his mouth. He felt filthy in every sense of the word, but the thought of washing away the smell of sex from his body made him somewhat melancholy.

“You’re gonna have to kick me out at some point,” Joe said, nibbling near the bend of Nicky’s arm.

“Am I?” Nicky asked, his mind a million miles away.

“Definitely… I should be working right now.”

He sank his teeth into him, causing Nicky to hiss and tense. It wasn’t as pleasurable as when Joe did it to his nipples, but he marveled at the way the pain stirred something in him regardless. When Joe pulled back, there was the perfect indent of his teeth on Nicky’s arm. It was going to turn into a bruise, he was sure of it. His right arm was already turning a light purple in a couple of places, more than making up for the faded one on his ass. Even if Joe did go home that night - and as far as Nicky was concerned, that was not going to happen - he’d still be left with sore spots all over. He might poke them randomly until the next time they met, appreciating the discomfort with an odd fascination.

 _He_ _’s branding me_ , he thought, finding very little resistance to the idea. _He_ _’s making me his and I don’t even mind it_.

Just the previous night, they’d both agreed this thing they had would probably never be more than a purely sexual arrangement, a way to scratch an itch while Joe was caught up with his art and Nicky was working through his break up. It’d do neither of them any favors to pretend their relationship could go beyond that. But he’d been Joe’s favorite plaything for about ten days and he was already sure that man could walk all over his heart and he’d probably thank him for it.

Joe licked the bite mark with then worked his way to Nicky’s neck.

“You’re a wicked little slut,” he whispered, hand finally sliding down his torso and taking a firm hold of Nicky’s erection.

Nicky let out a happy sigh. He’d never expected to react so strongly to such an ugly word, but the soft sound of Joe’s voice made it sound affectionate. Like the word was a form of praise and a source of pride instead of shame and disgust.

He spread his legs and let himself be stroked and kissed.

_Call me that again._

_Please._

_Joe, please._

_Call me that again._

The words came all the way up to his throat, drenched in arousal and need and ready to pour out of him without hesitation. The morning sex and the sleepless night had left him mellow. Whatever filter that had once held those thoughts back was currently numbed by that happy, warm feeling and the bittersweetness of that word.

If it hadn’t been the front door opening, Nicky might have confessed to his deepest and most shameful secrets without batting an eye, but then Joe lifted his head and asked, “You heard that?”

“Hm?”

Somewhere from the living room, someone asked, “Nicky? You home?” and it took Nicky a moment to realize who was speaking. He threw his head back on the pillow.

“Shit.”

“Nick?” another male voice called. “We’re just here to get his things.”

He disentangled himself from Joe and sat up.

Mark called his name again.

“I’m waking up! Give me a minute!” he shouted back, frustrated. Then, he added, “Don’t come in here!” To Joe, he said, “Sorry. He was supposed to come over tomorrow. I don’t know why he thought it was a good idea to come today.”

“It’s fine,” Joe said, his tone matching Nicky’s quietness. He lied back on the bed and laced his fingers behind his back. “Do you want me to hide? Or should I casually walk out in my underwear and thank you for the amazing night?”

“As amusing as that would be,” Nicky conceded, “he’s brought a friend with him. I don’t really want to humiliate him.”

Joe shrugged. “You’re more gracious than I’d be in this situation.”

“Nicky-?”

Nicky shouted, “ _I said give me a_ fucking _minute!_ ” then gave Joe a sheepish look.

Joe was smiling. “Not too late for me to walk out and rub all of the wonderful sex we’re having in his face.”

“You just want to be naked in front of a bunch of two hot vets, don’t you?”

“Oooh… you just made it interesting.”

Nicky threw a pillow at his smiling face and told him to stay put.

He spent a total of two minutes under cold water in the shower, just enough to wash away the smell of another man from his skin and hair and force his erection to subside. Then, he brushed his teeth and put on the sweatpants he’d had on the previous night and a blue sweater to cover the bruises on his arm.

Joe was lying on his side when he came back from the adjoined bathroom, his eyes closed. Nicky bent over to give him a kiss.

“Don’t sleep,” he said.

Joe’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

——

Mark was standing in the middle of the living room, looking just as guilty as he had the last time they’d seen each other. Despite himself, Nicky felt his heart ache a little at the familiar sight. This was never going to happen again. After that day, he would never come home to find Mark waiting for him, hands in his pockets and a look in his eyes that made it clear he’d screwed up and that the rest of the night would be spent shouting at each other.

It wasn’t a bad thing, but Nicky couldn’t help but feel he’d miss it. Miss _him_. It hadn’t all been bad. If he were to put it all on a scale, there’d probably be a lot more good moments than bad ones, but the bad ones would weigh heavier regardless.

Mark waved limply at him.

“Hey.”

Nicky didn’t answer. At least Mark’s new boyfriend hadn’t come, which showed _some_ good sense on his part. Nicky didn’t want to think what he’d do if he saw Dr. Ivan Meta in his living room. He’d probably make some passive-aggressive remark. Or leave the apartment altogether so he wouldn’t have to deal with it.

For the task of removing every trace of himself from what was now Nicky’s apartment, Mark had brought along Morrison, Mark’s oldest friend and fellow Army vet. Nicky quite liked Morrison; he was a witty man who always managed to make him laugh. And the brotherly rivalry he had with Mark meant he often sided with Nicky in disputes just to get under his best friend’s skin. It’d long been a joke among them that Mark’s choice of groom might change over time, but the one sure thing was that Morrison would be standing at the altar by his side.

That used to make him laugh. Funny how it turned out to be true.

Morrison waved, “Hey, Nicky.”

“Hey.” To Mark, he said, “I thought you were coming tomorrow.”

“I texted. Morry won’t have the van tomorrow. We had to do it today.”

Nicky flirted with the idea of being difficult but decided it didn’t matter. The sooner he got his things, the sooner this would be over.

“Fine, whatever. Nile helped disassemble everything.”

Morrison asked, “Did you put his dolls away as well?”

Nicky waited for the familiar outrage from Mark as he reminded his friend, for the thousandth time, that they weren’t dolls. They were priceless _collectibles_. But he didn’t.

Since Morrison’s tease fell flat and failed to return some semblance of normalcy to their meeting, Nicky said, “Yeah, and I was careful, too. It’s all boxed up. You can just… take it.”

“Great, thanks, Nick,” Morrison said and gave his shoulder a pat as he walked by him.

Mark stayed put. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I had time. And Nile did most of the heavy lifting. Since you think I’m useless with tools.”

“Yeah… but you kinda are. I’ve got the scars to prove.”

He smiled slightly. A nice, familiar smile without a trace of irony and that shed some light on the sharp angles of his face. Mark was all high cheekbones and fine jawline, features that would’ve looked effeminate on any other man but that suited him so well. Nicky remembered being taken by the way his green eyes crinkled when he laughed.

“Did Morrison set a date yet?” Nicky asked. He wasn’t going to spend their last moment together being led down memory lane, sharing old stories and looking back at good times with a mixture of anger and regret. That way, madness and heartbreak lied.

“August 2nd,” he said. “They’re getting married in the same church as Alana’s parents. She’s really excited.”

“Good. You don’t have to worry, I’m not gonna go. I’ll just send them a gift. If that’s alright with you.”

“He’s your friend, too, you know.”

He made that sound like a gracious concession.

“Well, he’s your best friend, so I thought I’d check.”

“ _Hey, your majesty!_ ” Morrison shouted from the office. “ _Get your arse in here! I_ _’m here to help, not to slave away while you chat!_ ”

Mark sighed. “I’m coming!” To Nicky, he asked, “My clothes-”

“Everything is in the office. There’s nothing left in the bedroom.”

Mark looked like he wanted to say something else, but the conversation had reached its natural conclusion. Other than apologies and shouting, there wasn’t much left for them to say to each other now that neither was actively trying to save the relationship.

 _Five years_ , Nicky thought, the number suddenly looking sad and empty and feeling like a waste of time.

For the next twenty minutes, Nicky waited in the living room, a watchful eye on the office door to make sure Mark wouldn’t go across the hallway and into the bedroom, but they only carried boxes and pieces of dismantled furniture down to Morrison’s van. After the third journey, Mark lingered in the living room while his friend disappeared down the hallway.

“What now?” Nicky asked, frustrated.

“I think I should apologize-”

“Mark,” Nicky said, firmly, “we’ve been through this enough times already. I get it. You’re sorry. It happened, the relationship is over, let’s not dwell on it.”

Mark didn’t move.

Nicky stared at him, asking without a word why he wasn’t moving. Somewhere in the office, a package dropped and Morry let out an angry, “ _Shit!_ ”

“You should go help that menace before he destroys my flat.”

Mark inhaled sharply, bracing himself. “I’d rather you hear it from me.”

“Hear what?”

“After this, we’re driving to Wimbledon.”

Nicky chewed on that information. It was typical of Mark to waste time by feeding him pieces of information and letting him do all the work.

Didn’t take him long to get to where Mark was going, though.

“Doesn’t Dr. Meta live in that area?”

“Yeah.”

The point was clear from that alone, but Nicky still asked, “Are you staying with him until you can find your own place or…”

“We’re moving in together.”

“Right, I thought so,” Nicky said. Then, he added, “Three months seems too soon to move in together.”

Mark stared at him, listening to the question at the end of the sentence and seeing the way Nicky’s eyes were flaring up. He didn’t say anything because he knew speaking would only get him in trouble and it was easier to let Nicky do the math.

Which he did.

“Before or after Christmas?” was all he asked.

“It… really doesn’t matter, Nic-”

“ _Before_ \- or - _after_ \- Christmas?”

He hadn’t raised his voice, but Mark still shuddered at the sheer anger in those words.

“Before,” he finally confessed. “A month before.”

Nicky nodded slowly. He didn’t think the affair had been consistent, that wasn’t Mark’s style. It’d probably happened once - an accident, really, he’d have said. It _just happened_. Probably at that stupid conference he’d been forced to accompany the doctor to. They must have shared a late-night drink that had turned to sex, which eventually turned into a guilty conscience.

And then Ivan had sworn to pretend it’d never happened. And Mark had come back home and bought an engagement ring.

Mark tried to say, “Listen-”

“ _Joe! Get in here!_ ”

Almost immediately, Joe threw the bedroom door open and sauntered into the living room wearing - _bless him!_ \- nothing but his underwear. He braced his hands on the door frame and said, “Oh! You must be the ex!” in the most cynical voice he could muster. Right behind him, Morrison had stuck his head into the hallway to see what was going on. He looked perplexed, but not as much as Mark.

The look on Mark’s face, as far as Nicky was concerned, was priceless.

“He is,” he said. “My _ex_ -boyfriend has some things he needs to get from the bedroom. Do you mind waiting here with me?”

“Not at all, love.”

He flung himself to the couch like he owned the place.

“Thank you.” To Mark, Nicky said, “There. Go get your things.”

Mark stuttered halfwords, but scurried away, closing the hallway door behind him. Nicky could still hear Morrison loudly remark, “Did Nicky just get a hot new boyfriend?” before Mark told him to shut up. He made a mental note to get him and Alana the most expensive item in their registry.

“Do you like the friend?” Joe asked. “I can be flirty if that’ll make him uncomfortable.”

“I like him,” Nicky said. “But feel free. Mark will hate that.” Then he sat on an armchair and rubbed his eyes. “Or not. I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight. I didn’t want to get you in the middle of- why are you looking at me like that?”

There was definitely a twinkle in Joe’s eye.

“I _really_ like power-play Nicky.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I mean it. Sweet, submissive Nicky is absolutely delicious, but that evil look in your eyes is really doing it for me. I say screw Mark. Get him out of here and bring all of that mean, angry energy into the bedroom. Take it all out on me.”

“Right. So, screw Mark. But fuck _you_.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

Nicky shook his head, amused at the fact that he couldn’t tell whether he was joking or being serious.

Mark crossed the room and didn’t look their way as he made his way to the door carrying a box labeled STAR WARS in one hand and a lightsaber in the other. Morrison looked at Joe, who winked at him, then threw Nicky a look that seemed to say, “Good for you, mate.”

Mark didn’t acknowledge either of them when they came back up.

“Aw, I think we pissed him off,” Joe said.

“You’re the bad influence Father Otho warned me about.”

“And you’re very welcomed for that. Hey!” he jumped to his knees on the couch. “Come here and kiss me. I bet that’ll make his head explode.”

“I thought you were being supportive, but now I fear this is just another one of your weird kinks.”

“Oh, revenge is a powerful aphrodisiac. Don’t you know that?”

Tempted as Nicky was, he fought the impulse to wrap his arms around Joe’s torso and shove his tongue down his throat. This was almost over and there was no point making it any more contentious than it already was.

Morrison came out of the office, two boxes balanced on his arms.

“Right, so, that’s it, then.”

He threw his friend a look. Mark had an ugly frown on his handsome features.

“Anyway, Nicky,” he continued, offering his hand as best he could while balancing the boxes on his forearms, “don’t be a stranger, okay? Alana always liked you better.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks for helping out, Morry.”

Morrison looked at Joe, who gave him a charming smile.

“Bye, hot stuff.”

He looked like he wanted to give a snarky remark, but Mark’s scoff got him to move along.

Mark stayed behind again.

“Well,” Nicky said when Mark remained quiet. “You got your things, yes? Ivan is waiting.”

“That’s my jumper.”

Nicky blinked at him, then looked down at the blue sweater he was wearing, realizing it was true.

It might have been more modest to go back into the bedroom and change, but Nicky was of the thought that Mark had overstayed his welcome and didn’t want to prolong their last meeting any longer. He pulled the sweater over his head and handed it over, ready for that nightmare to be done with.

“There. Now, please, go.”

Mark didn’t take it.

“What’s that on your arm?”

Nicky’s eyes fell on bruises Joe had left on his skin. Three round, purple marks trailing from his wrist to the top of his forearm; the last one had the very clear shape of his mouth.

Nicky crossed his arms.

“It’s nothing. It’s a- I had to do a blood test. You remember, because you were screwing another man behind my back.”

The accusation didn’t faze Mark this time. He was too busy throwing Joe a look full of suspicion.

“Did _he_ hurt you?”

Nicky rolled his eyes. A quick glance at the couch showed him Joe’s confident face had vanished and that he was growing increasingly uncomfortable with where the conversation was going.

“He didn’t hurt me, Mark. I had to do a blood test. You know this. Did you get everything you needed?”

Mark didn’t budge.

“I was worried about the bruises, but now I’m worried because you’re lying to me-”

“I’m lying because it’s none of your business. We’re not together anymore. Whatever I’m doing in _my_ bedroom is no longer your concern.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m just gonna walk away and let you get yourself into a dangerous situation with some pervert-”

Joe raised his hand. “Uh, if your ex is going to resort to name-calling, can I be excused?”

“Yes, I’m so sorry.”

Joe scurried to the bedroom. There were no flirtatious remarks this time.

Nicky looked Mark dead in the eye.

“You need to go,” he said, resolute. “You just made me feel a little worse about our engagement. You offended my friend. And now you’re looking at me the way that I hate.”

“What way is that?”

“Like you’re disappointed in me.”

The anger in Mark’s eyes seemed to soften. To be fair, Nicky doubted much of it was directed at him.

“I understand that I hurt you,” he tried, using that soothing tone of voice that always sounded patronizing to Nicky’s ears, “but you’re better than _that_.”

“Than what, exactly?”

“A cheap one-night stand with some guy who likes to parade in front of strangers in his underwear. You’re usually a better judge of character.”

“Oh, I am, am I?” he threw it back at him. “Because I was with you for _five years_ and I never pegged you for the type who’d propose just to cover up an affair.”

“I wasn’t _having_ an affair,” Mark snapped back, his worried tone being replaced with frustration. “It was a- we didn’t mean for it to happen. It just _did_.”

“So you proposed to me- why exactly? Because you felt guilty?”

Mark began protesting, but then stopped.

“Fine!” he conceded. “I proposed because I felt guilty. It was selfish and it was hurtful and I’ve apologized for it. But if you’re letting strangers-”

He waved his hand at Nicky’s arm, a look of horror on his face. Whatever he was imagining they’d done in bed, it must have been a lot worse than biting and improvised bondage. Mark had never left such an ugly mark on his skin, and never on purpose. He liked the slow, gentle kind of love-making, and any leftovers from that were met with apologies and acts of contrition. Laying a hand on a person he loved or marking them in such an ugly way was unacceptable, it didn’t matter how consensual it might be.

He continued, “If you’re letting strangers _do that_ to you, maybe it wasn’t the cheating that doomed our relationship. It’s all I’m saying.”

“No, what doomed our relationship was you being a coward- No!” Nicky took a deep breath. Held it in. Exhaled slowly. “No. We’re not gonna do this. Not again. This is pointless and I don’t have the energy, Mark. We’ve had this fight _every week_ for the last ten months _at least_. I’m not doing this again just so you can have the high ground when you leave-”

“I’m not trying to have the-”

“If you’ve got your things, you can go.”

Mark didn’t move. He still tried, “Nicky, this isn’t who you are-”

But Nicky all but yelled, “Mark, _I - don_ _’t - care_! You’ve got your things, now _get out_!”

He looked like he wanted to insist - and to be fair, part of Nicky wanted him to insist, too. Maybe this was what was going to take to put a definite end to their relationship: screaming at each other and bringing up old grievances one last time until whatever fondness had been left in Nicky’s heart solidified into resentment. The strangest thing was that Mark seemed to be thinking the same. He could see it in the way his eyes oscillated between anger and worry, as though he didn’t _want_ to care as much as he did but couldn’t help it. Perhaps all great love stories could only end in absolute tragedy or not end at all.

After a stretch of silence that was filled with unspoken aggression, the air simmered down to an unwanted sadness that had no business being there anymore. This wasn’t sad, it didn’t matter that Nicky could feel his eyes beginning to water. If anything, this was inevitable.

Mark exhaled through his nose, his posture softening. Without another word, he turned on his heels and dropped his keys on the side table before walking out one last time.

——

Nicky washed his face in the half-bathroom down the hall, then stood between the bedroom door and the office for a moment, deciding what he wanted to do. Joe was waiting for him and hadn’t made a sound since he’d gotten away from his relationship drama. He was probably waiting in bed with a comforting hug and an array of gentle words; Nicky didn’t know him long, but he could already tell Joe was just a good person. A purely sexual arrangement or not, he wasn’t about to excuse himself to leave him to wallow in his own self-pity.

Nevertheless, Nicky wasn’t in the mood to be comforted. There was still an angry cry stuck in his throat, making him feel stuffed and breakable. Joe must have felt it because he didn’t come out and allowed him a moment to calm down.

Instead of coming into the bedroom, Nicky turned around and looked at the empty office. Well, now it was only an empty den, just like the day they’d moved in. Mark had asked Nicky if he minded making the room his own personal space, to which he’d raised no objections other than a good-humored, “What does a security guard need an office for?”

Mark had filled the space with a nice desk he only ever used to file taxes and pay the bills. Sometimes he’d close the door to call his family or friends in private when a sensitive topic was being discussed. There were pictures of Mark’s army days and loving parents on the walls, and his beloved action figures from childhood were proudly displayed on shelves.

Nicky considered them cute most of the time - he never really mentioned those few occasions he felt a stab of resentment towards the fact that Mark had had a childhood he looked back at fondly. Nicky had left his own youth behind as soon as he was old enough to go into the service of God and whatever toys he might have had before the orphanage hadn’t been allowed to follow him there. He was pretty sure there’d been a stuffed animal clutched in his hand at some point, but what had become of it, he didn’t know.

For a while, Mark had had a running mill in the corner, a way to imply that Nicky was welcomed in the space, which was a nice gesture. But neither liked exercising indoors and in two years the bulky equipment had been replaced by a couch. It’d come in handy later when Mark needed a place to sleep after a disagreement.

Fucking Mark.

 _Cheating_ Mark.

 _His_ Mark - who’d smiled at the reasonably spacious den when they’d first come to see the apartment and pulled Nicky into a hug, saying, “There’s space for a crib.”

Nicky closed the office door and marched into the bedroom like he was trying to run away from the good memories.

Joe was sitting at the foot of the bed, wearing his underwear and a sympathetic smile.

“You okay, Nicky?”

There was a moment that only lasted between heartbeats in which Nicky felt compelled to cry on Joe’s shoulder. Not just weep, but ugly sob and moan and rage about the unfairness of it all. About how this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. About the grave mistake coming to England had turned out to be and how dare that man destroy their lives like that? He’d even cry about that stupid stuffed animal he couldn’t remember. Why the hell not? Joe wouldn’t mind. He was just _nice_ that way.

But asking that man to fuck him and call him a slut in the heat of the moment was easy compared to asking him to hold him and say it’d be alright. Cracking his own heart open and handing it over to another man in hopes he could mend it was too much, too fast, too bare. For all intents and purposes, Joe wasn’t his boyfriend. He was - how had Mark put it? - a one-night stand who liked to parade around in his underwear. And who left lovely bruises on his skin.

All Nicky said was, “I don’t want to talk.”

In a soothing voice, Joe said, “That’s fine. Do you need me to go?”

Nicky kissed him. Not a gentle, mournful kiss that begged for a little comfort after what had been an awful forty minutes. A deep, possessive kiss that felt more like a command than a tenderness. Nicky had no idea how his hand had ended up on Joe’s jaw, forcing his mouth open to let his tongue in, but his fingers were clutching him like they were giving a warning.

_Don_ _’t talk._

_Don_ _’t you dare._

Nicky’s other hand cradled the back of Joe’s head, forcing it closer and forbidding him from moving away. Not that it was necessary. Joe wasn’t moving. His lips parted immediately and he savored the kiss like he knew what was expected of him and was more than willing to comply.

Like he understood.

It wasn’t until he was out of breath that Nicky pulled away no further than an inch. Joe’s brown eyes were so close it was impossible to read them. His tongue brushed over Nicky’s lips, inviting him back, and his hands were showing unexpected restraint by lying still on Nicky’s waist.

Nicky let go of his chin and ran his fingers through Joe’s hair, breathing heavily and trying to steady his thoughts before he did something he might regret.

“You can tell me to stop-”

Joe’s immediate response was, “I’m not going to.”

He licked at Nicky’s lips again. Whatever wisp of modesty had been holding him back vanished and he shoved Nicky’s sweatpants down to his ankles. He ran those large, strong hands up and down his backside.

“Are you sad, baby?” he coaxed him. “Or are you just angry?”

Nicky didn’t want to examine his feelings find an honest answer to his question, nor did he think that was what Joe was asking him to.

“Either way, do you want to get all of that out?”

He lied back on the bed. Nicky’s hands on his hair slipped away. Now, he could see his eyes more clearly and there was definitely an invitation in them. His heart was thundering and the fire that had been burning furiously in the pit of his stomach a moment before was slowly descending to his lower belly, where it was turning to a pleasant simmer.

Joe slipped out of his underwear.

“Come here, baby. Let it all out. I can take it.”

Nicky held his erection and ran its length with a loose grip, bringing himself just off the edge enough to think semi-clearly. There was a primitive part of his brain that wanted to ignore every rational thought and do just what Joe was asking - begging, really, with wide, brown eyes that looked just as subdued as they looked challenging - and just fuck him as hard as he could until every ounce of sorrow and anger and grief had spilled out of him.

“Tell me the safeword again,” Nicky said, trying to center himself.

“Red.”

“Turn around.”

Joe flipped on his stomach, leaving his legs wide open so Nicky could get on the bed and kneel between them. His ass moved up and down a couple of times as he rubbed his cock on the sweat-covered sheets, then stood perfectly still when Nicky got behind him.

It was easier to think without Joe’s eyes on him. He ran his hands up the back of his thigh until he was palming his ass. It felt solid under his hands. Joe let out a sigh as he began to squeeze.

“What do you want to do to me, baby? What will make you feel better?”

A rush of disjointed images flashed inside Nicky’s mind, overwhelming him momentarily. _Everything_. He wanted to do _everything_ he could to that beautiful man. Everything Mark had been too reluctant to try. Every shameful thought that had ever crossed his mind that he’d never been able to say out loud for fear that his boyfriend would look at him with disgust or worry - just as he’d done moments ago.

He wanted to be covered in love bites and ugly bruises and then strut as proudly as Joe had done.

“Please, _sir_ ,” Joe keened, the title making Nicky’s ears perk up and his heart skip a beat. He’d assumed that it’d feel ridiculous to be called by an honorific just for the sake of sex, especially by a man who was at least a couple of years his senior. But it felt so natural coming from Joe’s lips, like his immediate submission to Nicky’s whims was unavoidable. He’d always wanted to end up here, sprawled on his bed and just begging to be used as an outlet for his lover’s most depraved thoughts.

“Call me that again,” Nicky rasped, pulling Joe’s cheeks apart and eying the hole with a hungry expression.

For a change, Joe wasn’t smug about it. His voice was reverent as he repeated, “Please, sir. You can do anything.” He knelt on the bed with a slithering, graceful movement. Nicky’s hands stayed exactly where they were as Joe pushed his ass back and arched his back without a hint of shame. “It’s all yours, sir. Every inch of me.”

Nicky felt dizzy. He thought of the many times he’d made love to Mark on that bed, on those same sheets, always on his side and trading whispers in the dark. Mark had never bared himself so much to him. He’d never been so vulnerable and open, showing a level of trust that Nicky found equally arousing and overwhelming.

“You can hurt me, sir,” Joe said, and Nicky could see his eyes close as he floated miles away. “I’m strong. I can take it.”

Nicky tapped his backside lightly with the palm of his hand, wondering how much it’d sting if he gave Joe a solid spanking. That alone drew a throaty sound out of him.

“Go on,” he said, eager and sounding almost commanding for the first time. “Hit me. Get it all out.”

“Not tonight,” Nicky said.

Even the frustrated sound Joe made caused his cock to twitch and ache. Apparently, holding that much power over someone else’s pleasure was just as aphrodisiacal as revenge. He’d have to explore that later when he wasn’t half of his mind and knew for sure he wouldn’t hurt Joe by getting carried away. Joe must have done much worse with other lovers, but Nicky was acutely aware of his own strength and inexperience and he’d seen what he could do to another person.

Joe said, “You fucking tease.”

It sounded very much like he was trying to rouse a response from him, but Nicky didn’t take the bait. Not when he knew how crazy it would make him.

He reached for the lube on the nightstand.

“Don’t use too much,” Joe said, happily squirming as Nicky teased his entrance with a slick finger. Nicky complied and, when he pushed, there was definitely more resistance than he’d expected. He watched Joe’s profile against the pillow. His eyes widened then screwed themselves shut.

“Too much?”

“It’s perfect, sir. Thank you.”

His smile was delighted as the pressure built inside of him.

“So good… so _thick_.”

Joe was the one on his knees, but Nicky felt his face blushing at how obscene that word sounded. He’d fucked Joe once that first weekend they’d spent together, but, somehow, this felt more intimate than those slow thrusts as he kissed the back of Joe’s neck and held him close.

Nicky slid a hand into his hair, feeling the curls between his fingers. He gave it a tentative tug to turn Joe’s face away from him so he wouldn’t see him blush, but then Joe took in a sharp breath and seemed to melt.

“Fuck- _yes_. _That_. Do _that_ again.”

Nicky pulled.

“Harder.”

He pulled until Joe’s head seemed about to snap back. Joe didn’t seem to care.

“Yes- _Yes! Thank you! Thank you, sir, thank you!_ ” he said, loud enough that his upstairs neighbors could hear him, three floors up. For nearly five years he’d lived in that apartment and not so much as a noise complaint. What would they even say if they heard another man’s voice moaning and calling him “sir” - at one o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon, no less! They’d be scandalized.

Maybe enough to call Mark’s number and ask him to tone it down.

Nicky could feel all of that anger, all of that heartbreak and disappointment flowing through his body, spreading to his extremities. They pooled on the tips of his fingers and made his grip more vicious. He planted a foot on the mattress and drove harder into him, pulling his hair so tight Joe was basically howling obscenities at the ceiling.

Joe arched his back and if the pain on his scalp was too much, he was too far gone to even realize. He matched Nicky’s steady, angry rhythm, grinding against him with a force that Nicky could only describe was desperate, like he might go insane if he didn’t chase that feeling to the end. Then, he fell silent for only a moment, mouth agape at the ceiling and his hips slowly to a more leisurely pace as he gasped for air. Nicky thought he’d ask him to stop, but then he announced loudly - to the neighbors, to God, and probably to the unaware passerby outside the window, “ _I_ _’m gonna come! Please, sir, let me come! Please!_ ”

And there was a permission being asked somewhere in there, but Nicky was too caught up in his own orgasm to even register he had a role to play and just spilled himself inside of Joe’s body while Joe came all over the sheets.

——

The quiet that settled once the pleasure was done coursing violently through his veins came with the realization that there were things to do. Usually, Joe just let him be and bask in the aftershock of the orgasm, but now he was too far gone to speak, let alone move.

Nicky disentangled his hand from Joe’s hair, some curly strands getting pulled in the process. Just to sooth him, Nicky brushed curls drenched in sweat away from his face. Joe was panting with an open mouth and closed eyes. A little smile twitched the corner of his mouth, but it was too exhausted to last.

Nicky felt spent, too, like he could sleep a decade and still not recover from the exertion. He pulled out and sat back on his heels, watching a drip of his seed slide down the back of Joe’s testicles.

Nicky pushed him to his side, then made him turn on his back.

Joe rested his hands on top of his chest as it rose and fell, then found a steady rhythm as his breathing returned to normal. Nicky had never seen anyone look so happy and relaxed.

“That felt so good, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Nicky smiled, but now that the sex was over, he did feel a little silly.

“Can you call me Nicky again? I liked it,” he added when Joe looked up at him. “It was hot. I just want to hear you say my name again.”

“Nicky,” Joe said. Then he giggled - an adorable, silly, honest-to-god giggle that might have been more fitting to a schoolgirl. “Nicky, Nick, Nicolò, Nicky, Nico-”

“I think I fucked you stupid.”

“Not even close,” Joe said. “You’ll have to try harder.”

“Any harder I might split you in half. I thought I was going to break your neck.”

Joe turned his head from one side to the word, causing a series of cracks.

“Yeah, I might need a chiropractor. And I already have a headache.”

“Come here.”

Joe struggled to sit up, wincing as he moved, but then Nicky’s had his fingertips on his temples, rubbing circles, and he began to purr.

They stayed quiet for a while, breathing the smell of sex and gathering their thoughts. Nicky found that he was getting hungry and as soon as he could feel his limbs again, he’d drag Joe to the kitchen and shove a large meal into him.

Lazily, Joe said, “I like to be a little roughed up, just so you know. You don’t have to worry about hurting me.”

“Well, I do. Clearly, you have very poor self-preservation.”

“True.” He added, “I don’t go around letting just anyone do that to me, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m not always in the mood for that sort of thing. I’ve been thinking about it since the first night I met you. You looked like you wouldn’t abuse the privilege.”

“What got you in the mood? Was it the hot vets?”

Joe cracked his eyes open but closed then again. Nicky kept rubbing his temples.

“I didn’t like the way your boyfriend was looking at me. I think I needed some reassurance.”

“Sorry. He can be a dick sometimes.”

“Well, screw him. I’m hotter and I’m having all of the sex, so-”

Nicky laughed and pulled him into a hug. Joe settled on his shoulder and both seemed to feel content in just being in silence for a while, holding on to each other.

Nicky’s phone started ringing.

He eyed it grumpily.

Joe asked, “That yours or mine?”

“Mine. Ignore it. It’ll go away.”

Sure enough, the noise faded after five rings.

Then it started again.

“ _Cazzo_.”

Nicky dislodged Joe from what had been a very comfortable position and grabbed his phone angrily. Nile’s name was flashing on the screen.

“Hey. Is this an emergency?”

“Sort of,” Nile said, sounding confused and annoyed. “Explain to me why Mark is blowing up my phone, claiming you’re in an abusive relationship?”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, no idea if more is coming. This was as far as I'd gone in my head. But you never know.


End file.
